The Little Sister
by jwa530
Summary: After her father dies, Emily not only finds out that she has a wealthy half-brother, but her half-brother is Seattle's own Christian Grey. While staying with Christian and Ana, Emily must learn to let go of her horrid childhood. If Christian thought he was 50 shades, wait until he meets his youngest sister.
1. Chapter 1

**Emily Freedman P.O.V.**

It was way too cold out for a summer night. I mean sure, it was nearing the end of August and school would start up again in a few weeks, but there was no reason for me to be shivering. I pulled my worn sweater around myself as I hurried down the dark streets toward my apartment building.

I grew up in the warehouse district of Detroit. While it certainly wasn't the safest place to be, I stopped being afraid to walk alone at night years ago. There were far scarier things always waiting for me inside. Which is why I wasn't that surprised to see the usual crowd of people outside my apartment building. Sometimes calling them people felt like an overstatement. They were simply shells. They had injected themselves with heroin and seen the bottom of a bottle too many times to care about anything else except feeding the habit.

But I always said hi to them. After all, these were my people. At age sixteen, I was hardly any better than they were. At least not yet. Whenever I see them, I think about this plan I made when I was five. I always dreamed that I would go to a college far away from here. When I was younger the dream was Harvard, but as I got older, anywhere outside of the state of Michigan seemed appealing. At college I would meet a boy who was also studying to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or something fancy and we would fall in love and he would take me away from this horrible place and save me. But that was the dream when I was five.

When I grew up, I realized three major flaws with my plan. The first, I was broke. No one in my family had ever gone to college, and it wasn't likely that I would be the first generation. Not with The Asshole spending all of our money on whiskey. The second flaw was my lack of grades. While I had been a bright child, school got harder and I stopped trying. It was hard to care about things like the respiratory system and covalent bonds when I had to worry about food and rent. And the final problem, a man will never save me from anything. As my life has proved so far, they're the things I need to be rescued from.

"Hi Franny," I say, as I pass the burnt out woman on my left. Her skin is withered and spotted, and her hair is frizzy and grey. The funny thing is, if my mother were still alive, she'd be about Franny's age, so she's not nearly as old as she looks. I can almost remember a time when she looked like a person.

"Emily," Robert grumbles on my right, his arm snaking around my waist. I nearly jump out of my skin as I free myself. I can smell the beer on his breath.

"Don't touch me," I hiss at him, running up the stairs towards my apartment.

Robert is nearly 50, but that has never stopped him from coming onto me. He's supposedly a recovering alcoholic, but I don't think anything about him has recovered.

Our building always smells like cat piss and cigarette smoke, and it's especially worse in the summer months. It's like the sun bakes us all in and makes everything stink. But these are all things I've grown accustomed to. When I finally reach the third floor landing, I see that the door to my apartment is wide open. How strange, I know I closed it before I left. And it's not like The Asshole would have gotten up off the couch long enough to open it. Unless…he knew someone was dropping something off.

I nearly feel my blood boil at the thought. The Asshole, or my father, only ever opened the door for his deale… who he claimed to cut off contact with after he promised to quit for the 9th time. Whatever. As soon as I get to the door, I know something is wrong. The air is too heavy, like no one has inhaled it in hours.

As I step inside and flick on the light, I realize that's because no one has. My father is passed out on the couch, and I can just tell by looking at him that he is dead. His needle lays on the floor beside him.

**Christian Grey P.O.V.**

It's my second day back at work after my honeymoon, and I'll admit that I feel out of sorts. Between being away for long and everything that's happened with the arsonist, I feel as if I'll never catch up. I stare at the wedding picture of Ana and I on my desk. God, I don't think I could ever love anyone as much as I love her. I'm tempted to go to her now and –

"Mr. Grey?" Andrea's voice brings me back to reality. Her head is poked through the door and she looks extremely uncomfortable with whatever she's about to say.

"What?" I snap. If she's going to come into my office unannounced it better be with good reason.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I know you don't have anything scheduled until 2, but that man named Kevin Bore from Child Protective Services is here to see you. He's the one that's left you several messages and he's insisting that it's extremely urgent that he meet with you," she says, pleading for me to understand with her eyes.

"Andrea, if he's looking for a donation then you know to send him down to the third floor. He doesn't need to meet with me directly," I say, rolling my eyes.

It's not that I have anything against CPS. I mean, I was once in their care about 24 years ago. But this guy can't seriously just waltz in here and expect me to personally hand him money. That's not how this works.

"Um, sir, he's insisting that it's an extremely _urgent_ personal matter and that he can't wait any longer," she explains, exasperated.

"Fine," I snap, "Send him in. Tell him he has 20 minutes. And send Taylor in with him."

When Kevin Bore walks in the room, I have to stifle a laugh. The last name could not be more appropriate for this guy. He's in a brown suit that looks like it came straight out of 1975, has a receding hairline though he can't be older than me, and slightly resembles the brother from Napoleon Dynamite. I roll my eyes thinking about all the times that Elliot made us watch that movie.

"I'm sorry to show up so abruptly Mr. Grey, but you weren't taking any of our calls," Bore says, sitting at the chair in front of my desk.

I want to roll my eyes. No shit, I was on my honeymoon and I have no interest in whatever you're about to tell me.

"I've been rather busy the past few weeks," I say nonchalantly, hiding my smirk. This guy is taking this way too seriously.

"Well I have some information that may come as a shock to you Mr. Grey, so please try and be patient," he explains, already seeming bothered by my arrogance. "You have information on your birth mother, but I understand you never had a relationship with your birth father –"

I cut him off immediately. "I would hardly count being neglected for the first four years of my life as having a relationship with my birth mother."

"My apologies, Mr. Grey. But as I was saying, your birth father's name was Neil Freedman. He died four days ago from a heroin overdose in his apartment in Detroit," he says, eyeing my carefully.

This bothers me. I have never once sought out a relationship with my birth father, and I don't need this man to show up and try to make me feel bad about his death.

"Now I'm sure you're wondering what that's got to do with CPS, but that's the reason I'm here. Your father had another child and – "

"NO." I interrupt him so quickly, I almost don't even realize I'm doing it. I'm out of my chair in seconds, starring down at him. "I have no interest in meeting some half-sibling who I have absolutely nothing in common with just because he's interested in getting a couple grand from me. They are NOT my family."

"Well…um…actually Mr. Grey, she has no idea you exist. Well I mean, she seems like a bright girl, so maybe she does, but she has no idea she's related to you. Your father left behind a 16-year-old daughter, your half sister. Her name is Emily Freedman," he explains, waiting for me to react.

"She's sixteen?" I breathe out so quickly, I feel like I could faint. I know exactly what he is about to ask of me.

"Now I know this may be an imposition, but we have nowhere else to put her for now. This doesn't have to be for the long-term, but she needs somewhere to stay until we can find a suitable home for her. The girl has been through a lot, and I can't see how putting her in a group home would benefit her in anyway. Her life has been far from stable Mr. Grey, and I think that maybe you could give her some of that security the poor kid so desperately needs."

"She's not a puppy. I can't just temporarily take in a teenager from the streets that I know nothing about," I say, but my words are flowing together.

I'm picturing my mother on the floor. Not Grace, but my birth mother. I'm remembering the awful apartment and the carpet that smelled like cat piss and how traumatic those four years of my life were and how awful it must have been to have lived like that for 16.

"Please, Mr. Grey. I know this is asking a lot. But this girl is your sister," Bore says, stressing the last word.

I'm suddenly furious. How did I not know about my father, or about this sister? How do I know this isn't some sort of scam, playing on the weakness of my past.

"Don't call her that. I already have a sister and I have absolutely no interest in having another. There has to be another family that you can place her with for the time being. I'm sure I can even give you some names," I say, almost pleading with him.

I can't meet this girl with a connection to my birth father. I can't surround myself with my past anymore.

"By law we need to place her with her next of kin, which is you. Please Mr. Grey, it will only be for a few days. And I think you might really like to meet her," he says, almost condescendingly.

There's a part of me that yearns for this. I just want to see what she looks like. Did the copper hair come from my birth father's side of the family? And she has 16 years worth of memories of him. She can at least tell me about his health and physical appearance, which are things I have always wondered about.

I sigh as I run my hands through my hair, nodding quickly.

"Please Mr. Bore, if you'll just give me time…I…I…God damn it, I just need to talk to my wife."

**Please let me know what you think! If you like it, I'll keep uploading. I know it may have seemed a little slow, but I was just getting things rolling.**

**-Jen **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Anastasia Grey P.O.V**

I immediately know something is wrong. Typically, Christian and Taylor pick Sawyer and I up from work at 6. But tonight, I only see Taylor. I half expect Christian to be in the backseat waiting for me, possibly too engrossed in a phone call to get out of the car and greet me. But I am sadly mistaken. My stomach is immediately filled with worry and I freeze while getting into the car.

Taylor senses my hesitation. "Er, Mr. Grey is waiting for you back at Escala in his office. He has something he wishes to discuss with you," he explains, eyeing my warily.

I immediately begin to panic. Something terrible must have happened. That is the only explanation for why my husband –

"Don't worry, Mrs. Grey. Everyone is fine. Something came up at work today and Mr. Grey just needed a little bit of time to cool down," Taylor says hesitantly.

I nod my head and get into the car. The ride back seems to take twice as long. I know it must be my nerves taking over, but I'm ready to scream at Taylor for driving so cautiously. After what seems like forever, we finally pull into the parking garage. My adrenaline has kicked in and I open the door before Taylor can even get out of the car.

"Please, Ana. Everything is ok," he says, starring me down. "There is no need to worry."

But I know that whatever he is saying is wrong. While the situation may be okay, I know Christian well enough to know that he is not okay. He has felt the need to retreat and withdraw from whatever is going on, which means it is one of the few things that he doesn't know how to control.

After the elevator finally finishes taking it's sweet time up to our apartment, my nerves are completely shot. I barely acknowledge Gail as I take the steps two at a time and race to Christian's door. But when I finally get there, I have no idea what to do. This man is my husband. It is my job to comfort him and be there for him, but I have absolutely no idea how to do that. I take a deep breath in and knock lightly on the door.

"Christian?" I call out, opening the door ever so slightly.

He doesn't move when I open the door. His head is in his hands, and it almost looks like he's been crying.

"Christian," I gasp, as I race to his side. I kneel down in front of him and pull his hands from his face. "What happened? What's wrong? Is someone hurt?" I know I'm asking a lot at once, but I can't fathom what possibly could have happened that would cause my husband to be in this state.

"I found out about dear old dad," he says, his voice completely emotionless. The look in his eyes breaks my heart.

"Carrick? What about him? Is he alright?" I ask, probably overdoing it with all of my questions. But I'm just so confused.

"No. My birth father. He was a heroin addict from Detroit. He's probably the one who got the crack whore addicted in the first place. He overdosed four days ago," he says this so coldly that I actually feel myself shiver.

"Christian," I sigh, throwing myself into his lap. I hug him tightly and he finally reciprocates.

"How do you know? I mean, why did they contact you about this?" I ask him. As far as I was concerned, he had absolutely not interest in ever having a relationship with his birth father, or even finding out who he is.

"Child protective services showed up at my office today. That's actually what I need to speak to you about. Please don't be upset with me," he begins, and I have absolutely no idea where he is going with this.

"What happened?" I ask, and I can hear the nerves in my own voice.

"Baby, you know how much I love you right?" he asks me, searching for something in my eyes.

"Christian, you're scaring me…please, just say it," I nearly plead with him.

"It turns out my father had a daughter. So I guess she's technically my half-sister, or some shit like that. I don't know, the whole thing is ridiculous. But this man showed up and started talking about group homes, and how she needs a place to stay for a little while and how she's been through a lot. And baby, I just kept thinking about the crack-whore and our shitty apartment and, I'm so sorry but I said she could stay with us for a little while. Just until they find another home for her," he pours out, never breaking eye contact with me.

I am in shock. To think that there is someone out there that shares blood with Christian…well it's just shocking.

"Christian, this is your sister. Of course she can stay with us. It shouldn't be temporary a thing. This could be really good for you," I say, trying to reason with him. I'm almost hurt that he thinks I wouldn't be ok with this. It's his sister, a child.

"No, I won't do this to us so soon in our marriage. It's just for a few days until they find another home for her," he insists, but I almost know that won't be the case.

We sit there in silence for a while, just holding eachother. I know anything that involves his early childhood is hard for him to think about.

"How old is she?" I finally ask, breaking the silence.

He looks at me for a second before smirking. "Sixteen."

**Emily Freedman P.O.V. **

Everything's happening so fast. I feel like one minute I'm going to wake up and realize that this is all just a horrible nightmare. The thing is, it's not like I should miss The Asshole. He hasn't done anything to help me in years and he has certainly hurt me more times than I can keep track of.

But there were these times that he actually seemed like my father. I mean, never really to me. But if you were to see us walking and laughing in the park with our ice cream cones in hand, you might think we were just a normal father and daughter. You would never know that my father had a horrible drug and alcohol problem. You would never know that he's left bruises across my arms and chest, and that he used to starve me before I was old enough to fend for myself. You would never know that he would invite his…despicable friends over. Because my father was an okay person when he was clean and sober. He was just almost never either of those things.

Every year or so, he would have a near death experience. He would drink too much or take a few too many drugs, and it would almost kill him. I had to call an ambulance for him on five of those occasions. After a brief rehab stint, he would promise me that he would be clean. And for about a week or so, he would be. We would go to the diner at three in the morning and eat cheese fries. We would take walks in the park, and get ice cream sundaes from our favorite stand. But it was always too good to be true. We could have an absolutely perfect night and then I would come home from school the next day, and it would be like someone flipped a switch.

My father would quickly become The Asshole and I would retreat to my room and wait for him to pass out. This has literally happened for as long as I can remember. So I know I should be glad that he's gone. It means I can keep my paycheck from being a cashier Morton's Food Mart to myself. It means I can change the locks on the doors to keep out his idiot friends. It means that I can finally clean the apartment and have it stop smelling like a stale bar.

Except I can't do any of these things. I can't keep my job at Morton's because I can't stay in Detroit. I can't change the locks on the apartment because it is no longer my apartment to keep. I finally have the freedom to do what I want, and I don't even get to stay to enjoy it.

After my father was confirmed dead at the hospital, I was forced to meet with Child Protective Services. Of course, this isn't the first time I've met with them over the years. My dad is The Asshole and I basically live in the projects…what do you expect? I even have my own agent from CPS. Her name is Rhonda, and she has auburn hair like me. Except her's is big and curly, and she's about 35 years older than I am.

"Do you have any other family, Emily? Anyone else you want us to call?" she asks me, flipping through my folder. For some reason, her tone of voice makes this seem like a condescending jab.

"You haven't called anyone," I mutter, more to myself than to her.

"Hmm?" she asks, confused by my statement. She stops shuffling through my file and gives me her 'I'm here to help you through this smile.'

"You asked if you should call anyone else. I was just saying that we haven't called anyone else at all. And I…no. I have no one else to call. Neil is my only family. You know this," I explain, refusing to make eye contact with her. It's like this woman has no idea that she's about to uproot my already fucked up life.

"Your dad had a son before you, didn't he? With a girlfriend before your mother, it says he was given up for adoption after she passed away," Rhonda states, as if she already knows everything about the situation. If the information is right in front of her, I don't understand why she needs to ask about it.

"You probably know more about it than I do. The Asshole didn't like to talk about it. I don't even know his first name or what year he was born," I say, rolling my eyes at her. Rhonda and I have never gotten along. She thinks I'm cynical.

"Well we've already been able to locate him, isn't that just fabulous? He's agreed to take you in for a few days!" Rhonda suddenly squeals, like this is the most fantastic thing in the world.

My throat tightens at her words. I found out years ago about my father's son before me. But he was always like a figment of my imagination. I never planned on meeting him. He was lucky enough to escape The Asshole and his first crack-whore, why would he ever come back?

"W-what?" I stutter. I don't even know what else to say.

"Yes! He's 28 and he lives in Seattle with his new wife. And get this! You know that dreamy billionaire named Christian Grey? Well that's your brother! Lucky you!" she gushes, and I have to resist the urge to slap her.

Nothing about this situation is lucky.

"My father's dead. I have a brother who has never had any interest in being part of my life who suddenly is willing to take me in and I'm being forced to leave a city that I have never ever stepped foot out of. Please explain to me my good fortune," I snap, ready to rip out Rhonda's curls. I have no patience for stupidity. Or Child Protective Services and everything they haven't done for me through out the years.

"Please Emily, be thankful that someone was willing to take you in. Try not to be too much of a burden," Rhonda says solemnly. Apparently she's upset that I didn't partake in her glee. Whatever. She stands and walks to the door.

"He'll be here tonight. Someone will accompany you to your apartment so you can grab a few things. I suggest you say your goodbyes," and with that, Rhonda is out the door.

**Sorry it's still getting started. I promise Emily and Christian will meet in the next chapter! **

**-Jen **


	3. Chapter 3

**Emily Freedman POV**

How exactly do you say goodbye to your childhood home? How do you look at the only place you've ever known, and know that you will never come back?

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok?" Diego asks, his arm snaking around my shoulders. As per usual, I flinch at his touch. It's not just contact with Diego that I can't tolerate, it's contact with anyone.

Diego Felipe is probably the closest thing I've ever had to a boyfriend. And by that, I mean he's had a crush on me since we were five and I've never reciprocated the feelings. Sure, we've kissed a couple of times, but never anything intimate. It's just never felt…okay.

But we've grown up together. He and his grandmother moved next door when we were in kindergarten and we've been friends ever since. Mrs. Felipe is like the grandmother I never had. Although she barely speaks any English, she's always been like family to me.

"I don't know," I murmur, fighting back the tears that are about to escape. _I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. _"I guess it just hasn't hit me yet."

"You know you can always stay with us, right? Nana would love it if you stayed with us. She would be so happy as long as you cooked for us like twice a week," Diego tells me, like this is the most brilliant plan he's ever come up with.

I look away and smile bitterly at the old tile on the kitchen floor.

"I don't think I have much choice in the matter. I haven't had a choice in any of this," I say, getting a little bit agitated. "I mean first I get stuck with shitty parents living in a shitty city with a shitty life. And as if that wasn't shitty enough, now that life is being ripped away from me. I don't want to move to Seattle. I don't want to meet my stupid brother, or his stupid wife. I don't want to meet new people and go to a new school and have to explain myself to people," I cry, the tears finally rolling my cheeks. This is the first time I've cried since my father has died.

"Hey, Em, it's all going to be ok. You're getting out of here. This is what we've always talked about. You're free now," Diego says, gripping both of my shoulders with his hands. He stares into my eyes for a few seconds and I fear he might kiss me again.

It's not that there's anything wrong with Diego. He has perfect tan skin, a big white smile, and these deep brown eyes that pierce your soul. But I've never allowed myself to have feelings for anyone. It's entirely too dangerous for everyone involved.

Diego senses my hesitation and drops his hands. He shakes his head twice, and then pulls me into one of his warm hugs.

"I'll always love you, Emily. And if you ever need anything…well I'm here," Diego's voice breaks and he pulls away.

He stares at me again for a few seconds and then smiles.

"Don't forget about me with your West Coast life, okay?" he jokes, before he grabs my hand for a second and squeezes.

For some odd reason, this only makes me cry more. Diego is the only real friend I've ever had. It's not that I'm weird or stuck up, I've just always had a hard time connecting with my peers. When they drank to have fun, I drank to forget about my life. When they danced at parties, I retreated into corners. But Diego was always there with me.

"I love you too, Di. Maybe you can come visit me or something," I smile, wiping the tears from my eyes.

He gives me one of his award winning smiles. "Definitely."

"Besides, if this new brother of mine is anything like the other men in my family, then I have no interest in meeting him, so I probably won't last that long out there anyway. In fact, I hope he never comes," I sniffle, trying to be optimistic about my life being uprooted.

But before Diego can respond, someone clears his throat behind me.

"That's unfortunate then," an unfamiliar voice mutters.

I turn around and I'm suddenly starring into the piercing grey eyes of my brother.

**Christian Grey P.O.V. **

She looks like me. Not exactly, or any shit like that. But we have the same eyes. And although her hair is a bit darker it has the same copper tint as my own.

Emily stares at me for a second, her facial expression alternating between one of hurt, confusion, and finally anger.

"Who are you?" she asks. So she's trying to feign confusion.

"I'm Christian Grey, Emily. But I was hoping you would have figured that out," I say dryly. I have no desire to play head games with a sixteen year old. The sooner we get home, the sooner they can find somewhere more suitable for her to stay. Nothing personal, but I don't have a desire to play daddy to some high school brat.

"Charmed," she mutters sarcastically, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at her. I'm not happy about this either, sweetheart.

"Are you about ready to go? I have things to do Ms. Freedman," I snap at her.

She looks hurt and for a second I feel bad. She's a child, I remind myself. And she's just lost her father. Although why she would be sad to leave this place I can't imagine. The scent alone makes my skin crawl.

I stare at the Hispanic boy to her left and I fight the urge to smile. The kid is way out of his league and probably out of his mind if he thinks she'll ever come back for him.

"I'm ready when you are," she chirps sarcastically, and my blood literally boils. I don't know how long I can tolerate this.

"Your bags have been loaded into my car. I'll be waiting downstairs. Say your goodbyes in a timely fashion," I snap, heading towards the door. I almost all the way out when I hear her sobs again. Fuck.

**Emily Freedman P.O.V. **

He has his own plane. This guy has been in my shitty little apartment, and he owns an airplane. So that's how the other half live. For some reason, this makes me angry. I mean while I was working my ass off to pay for rent and groceries, he was paying for yachts and vacation homes. Why did he get so lucky? Why did he get to be adopted and why did I have to stay with The Asshole?

Christian is probably the most intimidating person I've ever met. His face is intense and serious. And although I wouldn't ever admit it, we kind of look alike. Growing up, my brother was always this abstract idea painted in my head by my father. I only heard about him a few times, and it was hard to believe that someone else with Neil Freedman's DNA was wandering the streets. But I guess he wasn't wandering. Not like I was.

I've never even been on an airplane before, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit anxious.

"We should land in an hour," Christian states, pulling me out of my thoughts. We haven't spoken since the plane took off.

"Cool," I say, and then want to hit myself. Cool? Really?

After another five minutes, the silence is almost too much to handle.

"So how long have you had the plane?" I ask, looking for anything to take my mind off the situation.

He smirks at his paperwork before answering. "About three years. I have a helicopter as well. I enjoy flying."

"That's crazy," I say because…well it is crazy.

"Do you enjoy flying?" he asks, still looking at his paperwork.

"This is actually my first time on a plane," I tell him. His forehead crinkles and he looks up at me.

"Oh," is all he says.

"Rhonda said you have a wife. Have long have you been married?" I ask, because I don't know what else to say.

"We actually got back from our honeymoon three days ago. So we've been married for a little over three weeks," he says as he smiles to himself.

Well now I just feel intrusive.

"Congratulations," I say. But I really want to apologize for this. I want to tell him that it's okay and I don't need to stay with him and he can just let me go back home and he'll never have to hear from me again. But I don't say any of that.

I look at Christian and I realize he's still smiling. And for a second I feel hopeful. Maybe I can have that. Maybe I can finally have a family. But then I remember that it's just for a few days until I end up in a foster home, so there's no point in getting my hopes up. Things like this don't work out for me.

**Sorry it's really short. I've been so busy this weekend and I wanted to get something up. **


	4. Chapter 4

Christian will be back in any minute with his sister. Although he has yet to actually acknowledge that this girl is his sister. I hope he isn't too harsh with her. My husband is a wonderful man, but it is no secret that he can be cruel when his guard is up. Cruel is the wrong word. But he definitely has a hard time opening up to people. But I think this could be good for him. Maybe it will be a chance for him to finally reconcile with his past.

I've gone a little bit crazy with decorating the guest room for Emily. I have no idea what she likes, so I didn't make it too girly or silly. But I changed the white bedding to something pastel and floral. I set up a vanity with several mirrors, stocked up on toiletries and make-up, and hung white Christmas lights on the walls.

"She isn't going to be here for that long," Christian huffed when he first saw the room.

Christian keeps trying to pretend that his sister isn't going to be a long-term thing, yet he stocked her closet with clothes personally picked out by Caroline Acton. Of course he was able to obtain her height and weight to determine her size. Her room is already more than any sixteen year old girl could ever want. I just keep remembering that this isn't _any_ sixteen year old girl. If she's anything like Christian…well we'll have our work cut out for us.

I'm setting the dinner table when I hear the elevator doors open. I know Michigan is three hours ahead of us, so it's almost 9 o'clock there, but I figured they might still be hungry. I rush into the foyer to greet them and stop dead in my tracks. She looks exactly like Christian.

Emily is easily one of the best looking sixteen year olds I have ever seen. Her hair is a perfect cross between auburn and brown and hangs about halfway down her back. She has olive skin and the same grey eyes as Christian. She's tall and thin, and it's quite obvious that they're related.

"Emily," I smile, "It's so great to meet you."

I think about hugging her, but I decide to stay where I am. If she's anything like Christian, I don't want to force physical contact with her.

Christian stares at me and for a second I think he might cry. But then he smiles and crosses the room over to me.

"Emily," he starts, "this is my wife, Anastasia." He says this while smiling down at me and I can't help but blush. Oh god, we're going to need to tone this down with a high schooler living under the same roof.

"Nice to meet you," Emily says shyly. She makes eye contact with me and gives a small smile.

"Are you a hungry? Gail made grilled chicken with salad. Emily you'll have to tell me what you like to eat," I say. I realize I'm rambling a bit, but I'm nervous.

"Chicken is fine," Christian snaps, before his sister even has a chance to answer.

I elbow him on the side. Be nice Christian!

"Chicken is great!" Emily yells awkwardly, and I can feel the nerves rolling off of her. I will need to tell Christian not to intimidate her like that. It's wrong.

We move into the dining room and Emily looks at all the chairs. I can sympathize with her.

"Why don't you sit here," I suggest, pulling out a chair next to my usual spot.

She smiles gratefully at me.

Gail comes in carrying a plate of chicken.

"Ms. Freedman, it's great to finally meet you. I'm Mrs. Jones," Gail smiles warmly. She sticks her hand out and Emily takes it cautiously.

"Gail cooks for us and maintains the apartment," Christian explains like it is the most nonchalant thing in the entire world. I don't think he realizes how wealthy he truly is.

I see a look of disgust cross Emily's face for a second, but I don't take it personally. From what Christian has found out, she's lived in poverty for her entire life. This is a lot to take in.

We sit down for dinner and everyone is on edge. Emily barely touches her food and it is clear to see that she is uncomfortable.

"There's a big difference between playing with your food and actually eating it," Christian states, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm aware," Emily snaps, glaring at him.

"So then stop behaving like a child and eat your dinner," Christian says, putting down his fork.

"Christian," I start, but he puts his hand up to silence me. Christian! She's afraid of you. I can't blame her for not eating.

"I'm not hungry," Emily states matter-of-factly, and I can see Christian turn red.

"I don't care," he says, through his clenched teeth.

"Okay then," Emily says, throwing her napkin down on her plate and standing up.

"Excuse me?" Christian says, standing up as well. He's towering over her and I can see he is furious.

"Christian, calm down. It's her first night," I say, touching his arm. He calms a little.

"If you don't care, then it shouldn't matter that I'm done eating. Tell your housekeeper that I said thanks," Emily snaps, and it's easy to hear the venom dripping in her voice.

She shoots Christian another dirty look before storming out of the room. Oh, Fifty.

**Emily Freedman P.O.V.**

I was planning on locking myself in my room, but then I realized that I have no idea where I'm staying. They forgot to give me the grand tour before dinner. I think it would ruin my dramatic exit if I went back inside and asked if they could show me to my room. Maybe I should just go for a walk.

"Ms. Freedman," a voice calls as I walk towards the elevator. I see the same man that flew with Christian and I on the plane. Taylor, I think.

"Um..hi," I say, almost guiltily.

"Mr. Grey has asked that I show you to your room," he says, all business. I can tell he's a little uncomfortable with this request. Aren't we all uncomfortable in the presence of Mr. Grey?

"I was actually going to just go for a walk," I say, still staring at the elevator doors.

"I'm afraid you are not permitted to leave at this time, ma'am," he explains, and I feel my face turn red. Now I'm just angry.

"What are you? Christian's little minion?" I snap, although nothing about him is little. He looks like an assassin.

"I'm Mr. Grey's personal security. I'd be happy to show you to your room," he says, his voice almost pleading with me. I almost feel bad for him. He has to deal with My Asshole Brother all the time.

"Fine," I mumble, turning to follow him up the stairs.

This is all too much. The apartment is bigger than any home I've ever been in. My room is decorated beautifully, and it all just feels so wrong. I would never be able to afford any of the things in here. It almost makes me feel guilty for how I behaved at dinner.

But Christian was the one that started it. I wasn't hungry. The food was good, but it ruined my appetite thinking about how expensive the silverware I was eating with probably was. It's not like I hate rich people. I mean, I guess Christian's the first one I've ever really known. And I don't even know him. I guess I just don't understand them. I don't understand how a person can live like this while there are other people in the world who can't afford to pay for their groceries.

I lay down on the bed and groan into the pillow. The duvet is thick and soft and probably cost more than my entire bed at home. And yet I've never felt so uncomfortable. I had never needed my shitty apartment more in my entire life. I would do anything to feel my springy mattress underneath me. There is a knock on the door and I think about yelling for the visitor to "fuck off." But I decide against it.

"Emily?" I hear Ana call from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

"Um…sure," I say, although I'm completely unsure of this entire deal.

She hesitantly opens the bedroom door and awkwardly stands in the doorway. She looks uncomfortable. Good, she knows how I feel. I push myself up and sit against the pillows.

"Is it alright if I sit?" she asks, as if it's the most important question she'll ever ask.

"I mean yeah, it's your bed," I tell her, and try to keep the attitude out of my voice. So far, she's the only sane one in this house. I probably shouldn't piss her off. Then again, she is married to Christian Grey. How sane can she really be?

"I'm sorry about the way your brother acted," Ana starts. I open my mouth to speak but then decide to shut it. "He's just having a really hard time with this. He's had a rough past and sometimes it's difficult for him to have any reminders of that."

I don't say anything. What I really want to do is tell Christian to get off his high horse. I can almost guarantee that what I dealt with for sixteen years is worse than what he dealt with for four years of his life. I want to say that I'm the one who lost her father, even if he was The Asshole. I'm the one that had to leave my entire life behind. And on top of that all, I've had to learn about my brother and how he has enough money to purchase a small country. But I don't say any of that.

"It's okay," I murmur. Wow Emily, way to have a fucking back bone. You really told her how you feel.

"No, it's not. I can't imagine how hard this has been on you. I won't try to pretend that I understand it. But I just want you to know that you have me. And although it may take him some time, you have Christian," Ana says, putting her hand on my arm.

I flinch and immediately feel guilty when I see her face fall.

"Sorry, habit," I murmur, feeling embarrassed.

"No, I should have kept my hands to myself," she laughs, like this is a completely normal occurrence. I don't know whether to be grateful or offended. But human touch is one thing I absolutely cannot handle. It hurts too much.

"Well, I'll be in the library if you need me. It's down the hall and to the left. I'll have to give you a full tour tomorrow," Ana says, smiling at me. She pushes herself off the bed and heads toward the door.

"Ana?" I say quietly.

She turns towards me with her hand on the doorknob.

"Just tell Christian I'm sorry. And that you guys have already done more than enough for me, so I'm sorry that I ruined dinner," I say hesitantly.

Ana smiles sadly for a second. "Of course." And then she's gone.

I lay down on the bed and for what seems like the first time in forever, I really cry. And I don't mean a few tears. I let out actual sobs that shake my body. I know I'm being loud, but for once, I can't bring myself to care. _This is all too much. This is all too much. This is all too much._Why is this happening to me?

I wake up in the morning with tears still on my face. That was the first time I have ever actually cried myself to sleep. For once, I can't remember my dreams. It's better than the usual nightmares. _His hands, my muffled screams, a dog running through a yard, the pain._ Stop it, Emily. Don't go there. Don't do this to yourself. That's behind you now. Be thankful.

I get up and go into the bathroom attached to the guest room. My reflection makes me cringe. I literally look like hell. My eyes are swollen and my hair is all over the place. I actually can't remember the last time I looked this bad. I turn on the shower and stay in there for way longer than I need to. The water pressure here is better than anything I've ever experienced. The shower is filled with fancy shampoos and conditioners, and when I finish drying my hair it falls in soft waves down my back. I never knew expensive hair products actually worked.

I decide to actually look at the clothes in the closet. I feel my jaw drop when I turn on the light. I have never seen so many articles of clothing for one person in my life. And to make matters worse, this is stuff I would actually wear. I decide to wear a comfortable looking t-shirt dress that's the same color as my eyes.

I typically don't wear make up, but I decide to apply cover up to the red marks around my eyes. There, at least I look like a normal human being. I walk downstairs and see Mrs. Jones standing in the kitchen. I still can't get over the fact that they have someone to cook for them.

"Good morning Ms. Freedman," she says warmly.

"Hi," I say awkwardly. "Do you need me to help you with anything?"

"Oh no, dear. I'm fine," she smiles, and laughs a little to herself. Something tells me that Christian has probably never once offered to help her in the kitchen. The idea actually makes me laugh.

"Would you like some French toast? It's Mr. Grey's favorite," Mrs. Jones tells me, as if I should care what his favorite breakfast food is.

"I'll just get myself some cereal," I say a little too quickly. She looks a bit shocked. "Sorry, I'm just not a big breakfast person," I explain, hoping to minimize any pain I just inflicted. I need to learn to be nicer. Good thing my brother is such a great role model.

I'm sitting at the breakfast bar eating Captain Crunch when Christian comes down the steps. He smiles at Mrs. Jones and gives me a nod before accepting a plate of French Toast. He looks at me hesitantly before he sits down next to me. It's not like I'm going to bite.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks, in a way that sounds like he could actually care less how I slept.

"Yes, thank you," I say quietly, starring down at my cereal bowl.

"Emily, I'm sorry if I was too hard on you last night," he finally says. I turn to look at him and he actually looks sincere.

"Oh…um, it's okay," I tell him, because what else am I supposed to say to that. The truth is, I was just as cold as he was. Something tells me that Christian and I will continue to get under each other's skin quite often.

Christian looks at me for a second and snorts. I look over at him and see him smiling to himself. Is there something wrong with me?

"What?" I asked, confused. But he keeps on laughing to himself and shakes his head. How annoying.

"I'm very confused right now," I tell him, trying to fight back a smile. I don't know why, but something about his laughter right now is contagious.

"You couldn't have slept that well," he finally says, taking a bite of his French Toast.

What an odd statement. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, slightly weirded out by his comment.

He laughs to himself again before turning to look at me, still smiling.

"You look so bad," he finally, snickers.

I can practically feel my jaw hit the floor. Dick! But before I can even get mad, I feel myself laughing too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Christian Grey P.O.V. **

I have absolutely no idea how to speak to sixteen-year-old girls. I wasn't speaking to them when I was sixteen and I certainly have no idea how to speak to them now. And yet, I'm pretty positive that telling one she looks bad probably wasn't the best way to go. But I mean, she laughed. She couldn't have been that angry if she laughed, right?

I spent half the night on the phone with Child Protective Services basically begging them to take her back, and now I feel bad. But what am I supposed to do? I can't play daddy to this kid. It literally wouldn't be fair to her. I am incapable of taking care of a child. However, they told me in order for them to find a home that I deem "suitable" they would need at least a month or two. And by suitable, I mean a home in a decent area and not a group home. I'm not that cruel.

Ana was upset about my phone call and has barely spoken to me. I don't know why she is so upset. It's not like she wants to take care of a sixteen year old after we've been married for a month.

"Christian, it's just so wrong," she scolded me, waving her hands angrily. For some reason her anger has always amused me.

"Baby, it's not our job to do this. I'm not placing her in a shitty foster care home. I'm making them find her a place to stay with a good family," I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "Fuck, I'm even going to pay for her tuition so she can go to a private school in the city, what else do you want from me?"

"I want you to realize that this is your little sister!" Ana screamed. "That this girl has had no one to look out for her for the past sixteen years! You don't need to be her father but you are her big brother. She needs some security for the first time in her life."

I sat at my desk and watched her pace. Neither of us said anything.

"She doesn't seem like she wants to stay," I finally said, breaking the silence. Ana shot a dirty look at me.

"Because you completely overwhelmed her. God, Christian it's like you have no idea how damn wealthy you are! This was intimidating for me and I didn't come from poverty! Look at this from her perspective. This girl just finds out her biological brother is a billionaire and she has been barely surviving. Imagine how that has to feel," Ana pleaded with me.

And I understand. I really do. And I feel terrible that there is a girl how there who came from the same father and had to stay with him. I wish someone had adopted her. I wish that she were living in a nice suburb with a fucking golden retriever because the kid has probably been through hell. And there is nothing I can do for her to make it better.

"I can't help her, Ana. I guarantee that whatever she has been through I can't make any better," I finally sighed.

"Just give this a chance, Christian. I know you'll regret not getting to know her," she says. And there's a part of me that knows she's right.

My family is coming over to meet Emily. I would have brought her to my parent's house, but I can guarantee the last thing this girl needs is to realize that I have yet more wealthy people in my life.

My mom cried on the phone when I told her about Emily.

"Please Christian! You need to help this little girl!" she cried. I love my mom to death, but I think she was being a little bit dramatic.

"She's not a little girl. She's a bitchy sixteen year old with an attitude problem and her current mission in life is to piss me off," I mumble, rubbing my eyes. I don't have time to keep explaining this situation to everyone. I've already agreed that she could stay here indefinitely unless we (and we probably will) find her a better option. What more does everyone want from me?

"Well darling, you were no angel teenager either. She's probably just overwhelmed," she lectured as I rolled my eyes.

"You sound like Ana," I sigh. Of course she does. Neither of these women are ever wrong.

Mia cried when I first told her. Don't get me wrong; I love that girl with all of my heart. For the longest time she was the only person that I let into my life. But for her to be jealous of a 16 year old orphan…I mean really. Talk about being ridiculous.

"I guess I'm just upset that you have another little sister," she said after she finally calmed down.

"Mia, we both know that you are always going to be my best friend. You were the first person that I've ever connected with. I'm just helping her out right now. In fact, I'd really like it if you could get to know her. I know that she's younger than you, but she could probably really use a friend," I explained to her.

"Well we all know you're no help in that department. You don't have any friends," Mia finally sighed. There was no trace of humor in her voice.

I laughed as I rolled my eyes. "Thanks Mia."

I knock on Emily's door a half an hour before my family is supposed to come. I almost smile to myself. I didn't call it the guest room.

"Um…hold on!" I hear her yell. Finally she opens the door.

"Hi," she says shyly, giving me a half smile.

"I just wanted to let you know that my family should be here in half an hour," I tell her, but I'm a little caught off guard. This is the first time I've actually noticed how beautiful this girl is. She's wearing make up, and I suddenly feel terrible about my comment on her appearance. The only thing I know about teenage girls is how incredibly insecure they are.

"Ok, um, I'll be down soon," she says quickly, and wipes her palms on her gray dress. I can tell she is nervous.

"You don't need to be nervous," I tell her, smirking a little bit.

She looks at me like I've offended her for a second and then her face returns to neutral.

"I'm not," she snaps and slams the door in my face.

I guess that's the only other thing I know about teenage girls. They're incredibly moody.

My family arrives promptly at 5 pm and I can feel the nervous tension as they enter the foyer. They all look at me expectantly, as if I'm hiding Emily away somewhere.

"Well?" Mia finally asks. "Where is she?"

"She's up in the guest room getting ready. She's nervous to meet all of you," I say, and for some reason I'm smiling to myself.

"Oh well someone tell the darling girl that she has nothing to worry about," my mom starts, shooting a look at Mia.

"Does she actually look like you?" Elliot asks, as if that's the most disgusting thing he's ever heard. "I just can't picture a girl with your face."

"Thanks," I say, rolling my eyes at him.

"I'm so excited! Ana says she's cute," Kate smiles, and I think this is the first time I ever seen her acting pleasant.

"Well I'm going to get her," Mia says, and starts out of the room.

"Mia!" My dad yells, but it's too late. She's already halfway up the stairs.

Ana comes out of the kitchen and hugs everyone in my family and then she and Kate start into the living room. For some reason I'm nervous. It's not like this girl is reflection of me or anything like that, but I just feel like my family needs to approve of her. She shares my DNA and I'm worried that if they reject her, they'll really be rejecting me. Of course I know my parents would never say anything negative, I just want them to genuinely help me help her.

Mia comes walking down the steps with Emily following closely behind. They're actually engaging in some sort of conversation and I see them both laugh. Interesting.

"Hello Emily," my mother smiles warmly at her. "I'm Grace, Christian's mother. This is my husband Carrick." She gestures to my dad standing beside her. Emily swallows for a second and then finally puts on a smile that I have yet to see over the past two days.

"Nice to meet you," she says. She goes to shake my mother's hand, but to her surprise my mom pulls her into a hug. I see her tense instantly. Fuck. I can only imagine where her fear of being touched came from.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," my mother says, still smiling. I can tell she probably feels bad and she's trying to make up for any awkward situation.

"Oh no, it's ok. Sorry," Emily says quickly.

I look at Elliot and wait for him to introduce himself. He finally catches my eye.

"Oh," he says. "I'm Elliot, Christian's brother. You guys are literally twins," he says, looking back and forth between the two of us. "I won't hug you, but can I at least get a high five?"

Alright Elliot, she's not four.

She looks at him like he's crazy, but then walks over and gives him one. I actually see her giggle again. Why can she be so polite to everyone but me?

"This is my fiancée Kate," he says, gesturing towards Kate.

"I'm also Ana's best friend. She's said so much about you," Kate says, all smiles. Seriously, what the fuck? Ana must have told her that Emily flipped out on me last night. She's probably proud of the common enemy.

"Oh," Emily says awkwardly, and I can tell she doesn't know what to say. What happened to the girl that was ready to tell me to go fuck myself last night?

Dinner goes surprisingly well. Mia manages to keep Emily involved in conversation the whole time. Until she decides to make everyone uncomfortable.

"So did you have a boyfriend back in Detroit?" Mia asks, like Emily is here on Spring Break or something.

She flushes scarlet and I can tell that she's immediately uncomfortable. However, I feel the need to wait for her response. She better not have a fucking boyfriend. She's sixteen years old. Wait am I seriously getting upset over her personal life?

"Oh no," Emily answers, starring down at her plate.

"Well don't sweat it. There were so many attractive guys at Carlyle Prep when I went there that I'm sure you'll have like 6 by the end of your first week," Mia states and I nearly choke on my water.

I have not mentioned anything to Emily about staying here for school in two weeks or about even attending the city's best prep school. Mia needs to stop speaking.

"Mia," my dad hisses, clearly uncomfortable by the audacity of her statement.

"What? Carlyle is known to have the hottest guys in Seattle. Why is that a bad thing?" Mia says, clearly still not understanding.

I shoot daggers out of my eyes at her across the table.

"Mia can you give me a hand with dessert in the kitchen?" Ana asks, trying to change the conversation.

"Why don't we just wait for Gail to bring it out?" Mia asks, and I'm about to actually murder my little sister.

"What's Carlyle?" Emily finally asks, looking around at all of us.

"It's the best school in the city. You'll love it so much! Christian went there after getting expelled from everywhere else and I went there after. He didn't tell…" Mia trails off when she finally catches my eye. "Oh."

"I guess I hadn't thought about school," Emily says, avoiding eye contact with any of us. Seriously Mia? Fuck.

"We'll talk about that later," I mumble.

"I actually don't feel well, I think I'm going to get some air," Emily says, nearly running out of the room.

I hear the elevator doors and it takes me a second to realize that I have no security on her. But she's already gone.

**Emily Freedman P.O.V.**

I can't tell if I'm upset or if I feel like crying. I guess I should be happy. My rich older brother wants me to go to a fancy prep school. But for some reason this bothers me. I don't want to go to a school with a bunch of rich kids like Christian Grey. I don't want to be the new girl in eleventh grade at a private school where every other kid has known eachother since pre-school. Why can't I just go to a normal high school? I've gone to a regular school my entire life and it's always been good enough for me.

And how dare he not consult me? One minute this whole thing is only temporary and the next he's basically picking out my class schedule. I walk down the sidewalk and realize I have no idea where I am. I see a bunch of expensive shops, so the area has to be semi decent. Besides, I from the ghetto of Detroit.

A coffee shop called The Bean catches my eye. It looks indie and stands out amongst all the preppy boutiques. I don't even have any cash, but I step inside and curl up in the corner booth. I just can't be around any of them right now.

I notice a group of guys around my age starring at me from the other side of the coffee shop and I feel my cheeks flush. It's not that I don't like guys, I've just never really given them a chance. But maybe I could. I mean, if they were interested of course. I decide to give them my brightest smile.

They all laugh at each other, and three of them start heading towards me. Oh shit. I don't know what I'm supposed to do in this situation. I notice the one in the center looking me up and down. He just screams bad boy. I like it.

"Hi," he says, smiling at me.

"Hi," I say back, surprised at the high pitch of my voice. Who am I?

"Why don't I know you?" he says, looking at his friends. I guess this is to confirm that they don't know me either.

"I can't say I know you either," I say, keeping my cool. Better to not give too much away to this random stranger. No matter how attractive his dark eyes are. They're the deepest shade of brown that they're almost black, and yet they're mesmerizing. His black hair hangs to his eyebrows under his knit hat.

"Everyone knows us," the one on the left says. He's a typical blonde and not at all my type.

"Well apparently not everyone," I say, smiling sarcastically.

"Mind if we sit?" the middle one asks, sliding into the booth next to me. His two friends sit across from us.

"What if I had said no? I don't typically dine with strangers," I say to him, biting down on my bottom lip. I have no idea what I'm doing but it seems to be working. These guys are talking to me!

"Luckily you're not dining," the one with dark eyes says as he cracks a crooked smile. I think I'm in love.

"Lucky for me," I giggle. Oh fuck. I just giggled.

"What's your name beautiful?" he asks, leaning in towards me. I can smell him and it's distracting.

"Um…it's Emily," I say. "I just moved here. Sort of."

He cocks his eyebrow at me but doesn't question it.

"Well Emily," he says, drawing out the sound of the L in my name, "my name's Jamie." He smiles again. He's so into himself I should be disgusted.

"And what about your friends?" I ask. Although I actually could care less.

"How rude of me. That's Scott," he says, gesturing to the blonde. "And that's Nate," he says, gesturing to the one with light brown hair. Nate stares at me and for some reason I'm suddenly uncomfortable.

"Do you guys go to Carlyle Prep?" I ask. I mean I might as well try to find out more about the beautiful boy in front of me.

"Is that even a question?" Jamie asks arrogantly, as he looks around at his friends. "The school wouldn't exist without us."

"Well I'm transferring there in the fall," I say, smiling at him.

"Well if you want to come to –" Jamie begins but he's suddenly interrupted.

"Emily," a voice hisses behind me. I turn and see Christian with two of his men in black behind him. "You're leaving."

"Are you ok?" Jamie asks me. I should probably tell him not to get involved, but instead I just climb out of the booth.

"I'll see you around," I smile at him one last time before shooting daggers at Christian.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Christian whispers in my ear as he shoves me out the door.

I know I'm supposed to be angry with him. But this school year just got a lot more promising.


	6. Chapter 6

Emily

It's the night before I'm supposed to start school and I'm actually nervous. I know…it's ridiculous. I've never been nervous about something like this, but I've also never been in this sort of situation. At my high school in Detroit, all of the other kids were like me.

We all came from messed up families and shabby apartments. We all started drinking at age 12 and it was an accomplishment if you weren't injecting anything by 15. Hell, it was an accomplishment if you weren't injecting anything _and_ pregnant by 15. I mean I was never into the whole drug thing. My dad kind of scared me off of that. But I knew plenty of people that were already on their way to becoming washed up shells of a person. It was almost expected of us. Teachers didn't bother talking about our future because it would be a miracle if half of us even made it to graduation.

But for the most part I fit in. Actually, the term blended in would be better. Sure I was typically taller than most other girls and I was the only girl with auburn hair in my class, but I always just faded into the background. It was too hard to try and relate to my peers. They asked too many questions. They made too many assumptions. And there was always a chance they could find out. _Slut. _The word made me cringe. I knew what they would all think about me.

I've been staying with Christian for a week, but we've hardly spoken since I walked out on dinner with his family. However, he's been trying to warm up to me with gifts. I guess he hasn't figured out that I'm a person who needs very little in life. A few days ago he gave me the iPhone 5s and seemed amazed when I told him I had never had a phone before. I still don't think he understands how poor I really was. We hardly ever even had electricity.

Ana and Mia have both been trying to make me feel at home, although Mia is a little bit much to handle. She likes to do my hair and put on so much make up that I hardly even look like myself. Today she came over and made me try on my uniform for school along with the other things she bought for "my first day."

"If I'm wearing a uniform why did you need to buy me anything else?" I asked her. She looked at me like I was insane.

"Emily, the uniform only insists that you wear the plaid skirt. You can wear whatever button down shirt you want, and not to mention all the different shoe options you have," she explained to me like I was from another planet. I guess in her world, I was.

Forty minutes later I had tried on button downs in every pastel color possible. They were all long sleeves of course. I was supposed to wear long sleeves and roll the sleeves up in the warmer weather. Once it got cooler out, the school cardigan would apparently "look really cute" with any of the shirts she bought for me. According to Mia, short sleeve button downs "are not a thing." Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. It's all just a little bit much.

By the time she was done with me, I barely recognized my reflection in the mirror. I looked like…a prep school bitch.

"Oh my god!" Mia squealed, after she placed a white lacey headband in my hair. "You look exactly like Blair Waldorf!"

I just looked at her like she was insane.

Reynolds and I are silent on my ride to school. Apparently he is expected to drop me off and pick me up at school every day. How fun for him.

My eyes ache with exhaustion and I think it was around 4am when I finally drifted off to sleep last night. I tried to cover it up with expensive make up stocked up in the vanity but I don't know if I exactly did it right. Ana told me I looked okay when I came downstairs this morning but I think she might have just been trying to make me feel better. I don't feel okay.

Reynolds stops the car and hops out before I can open my door. I don't know why Christian insists they do that. I'm perfectly capable of opening my own car door. It makes me feel like a prisoner.

I stare at him hesitantly and I honestly feel like I might throw up. The school looks more like a mansion and I can see tons of people pulling up in their Mercedes. The front lawn and steps are filled with students in plaid and navy all hugging each other. I see girls in knee highs and designer shoes and boys in bow ties. Oh right. This is their first day of the year too. For some reason, that doesn't make me feel any better.

"I don't know if I can do this," I say, mostly to myself.

"Ms. Freedman, if you don't mind me saying, they can smell fear. Just walk up like you own the place. Your brother basically does," Reynolds whispers, extending his hand out for me to take. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't attractive. I know he's a great deal older than me, but I'm not blind.

I place my hand cautiously in his and nod and he helps me out of the car.

"Thank you," I smile at him and he gives me one back.

"Good luck," he says and practically pushes me towards the building.

From what I've been told, Carlyle Prep is a very small school. There are only about fifty kids per grade and I guess that would explain why everyone is starring at me. I'm the new kid. Solid.

I pull out the piece of paper from my pocket with my locker number and frantically search the halls until I find it. Several people snicker at the fact that I clearly have no idea what I'm doing.

"So you're the famous Emily that we've all heard so much about," a voice says behind me. I turn and see a petite blonde girl with bright blue eyes starring back at me. She's probably one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen.

"Um, I'm definitely not the famous one," I say, laughing awkwardly.

The blonde shrugs as she looks me up and down. I guess I pass her judgment because she gives me a smile that makes me a little uneasy.

"I'm Madison Colfer. My father does some business with your brother. You are Christian Grey's sister, aren't you?" she asks, like this will determine if she will engage me in any further conversation.

"Um, yeah. He's my brother," I tell her, shrugging a little. I don't really know where she's going with this conversation.

"Oh my god! That's so sweet," Madison says forcefully, although her smile doesn't meet her eyes. I'm not really sure that anything I just said qualifies as being sweet. "You totally need to hang out with us."

"Oh, um, us?" I stammer. Why can't I speak like a normal human being? This girl is half a head shorter than me in her designer heels. That definitely isn't part of the dress code.

"Oh we call ourselves the Real Kids. I guess that sounds cheesy but we decided it in like seventh grade. You know, for the kids that actually pay their tuition and don't come here on scholarship," she says, like coming to a private school on scholarship is something dirty. If only she knew where I went to school before this.

"Well thank you, but I don't want to intrude-" I start, but Madison interrupts me.

"You won't be intruding!" she almost yells. Although she's all smiles, she says this like it's exactly what I'll be doing. If queen bee doesn't want me entering her social scene, then why invite me?

"Well…cool," I say awkwardly, hoping this conversation will end.

"Very cool," she says and I can basically see her roll her eyes as she walks away. What the fuck was that?

My classes are really small, which I think is supposed to be a good thing. But I still feel uncomfortable. All these kids are clearly friends. Well not all of them. I have been here for only two periods and I can already figure out the two main social circles. The Real Kids, which Madison blabbered on about, and then the Scholarship Kids. I guess some people crossover between the two groups, but it seems pretty set in stone.

I get to my third class of the day and I'm one of the first people in the room. I'm actually not dreading this class. It's Modern World History and it's something I actually enjoy. I guess growing up in a city allows you to appreciate all the different cultures.

"Hey Gorgeous," a voice says in my ear.

I jump a little bit as I see Jamie sit in the seat next to me.

"Oh, hi," I smile breathlessly. He's so effortlessly attractive that it actually hurts.

"Maddie said she met you," he says, looking at me apologetically.

"Maddie? Oh, she introduced herself as Madison. She seems sweet," I lie, because I can't really afford to make any enemies yet.

"Yeah, she's sweet alright. I think she's just jealous of you," Jamie says, starring into my eyes.

"What?" I gasp. Why anyone would ever be jealous of me I can't fathom.

"Yeah she's like the jealous crazy girlfriend type," he says, winking at me.

"Wait, she's your girlfriend?" I blurt. Smooth Emily. That was really nonchalant. He'll never know that you're into him. My subconscious is rolling her eyes at me. When did I turn into the girl that gets nervous while talking to boys.

"I mean technically," he says, starring at me again. And I suddenly feel uncomfortable. Who looks at a girl like that when they have a girlfriend? Especially when his girlfriend wouldn't hesitate to stab her stiletto heel through my esophagus.

Jamie's gaze is broken when someone roughly bumps his shoulder as they walk by.

"Watch where the fuck you're going Benson," Jamie yells across the class, getting laughter from his friends who are now filling the room. I recognize Nate from the coffee shop.

"Nah, I meant to do that Canters," the boy yells back from the front of the class. I see his face and I'm speechless. Mia was right, the boys at this school are a whole different breed.

His dirty blonde hair is cut short and his tan skin is a perfect contrast against his deep blue eyes. He stares at me for a second before rolling his eyes. Rude. For some reason I'm extremely offended.

"What's the matter Benson? Still pissed because your mom's on welfare?" Jamie yells out again.

"Oh shit!" Nate laughs and I suddenly feel like vomiting all over again. Who says that? God I hate rich people.

"Jamie," I scold, and he looks at my like I'm being ridiculous. I don't even know him and I'm embarrassed by what he just said.

"Alright Canters, not only is that still not true, but it's still not funny. I'll see you at practice," the boy in the front says before turning around.

At lunch Jamie invites me to sit with his friends. As much as he creeps me out, I'm in desperate need of a place to sit. I choose a seat as far away from his as possible and sit next to Madison and her group of loyal blondes. They literally all look alike. And not a single one of them is friendly.

"Who is that boy?" I ask her, motioning across the cafeteria where the beautiful boy from my class sits. Who am I becoming? I tell myself that I'm only interested because he rolled his eyes at me. I mean who does he think he is?

"Matt Benson? Don't even bother with him. He thinks he's hot shit because he's like this amazing soccer player. Which I mean he is, look at him. But he totally stole Jamie's spot because Carlyle brought him in on like full scholarship. They do stuff like that all the time," Madison says, playing with the salad on her plate. I notice none of the girls around me actually eat their food.

"Is soccer a really big deal here?" I ask. One of Madison's friends, Charlotte I think, spits out her drink like I've just asked the dumbest question.

"Yeah. It's like the only thing here," Madison says while rolling her eyes. I really can't tell if this girl hates me or not.

The rest of the day passes by quickly and I find myself relieved when the final bell rings. I've never wanted to get out of a place so badly. I miss Diego. I miss my old school with the bad cafeteria food and the loud hallways. I miss when people weren't trying to be my friend so they could stab me in my sleep.

When I'm almost to my locker someone grabs my arm. Madison is standing behind me dressed in a tight white v-neck and spandex shorts which cling to her perfect figure. Is she actually walking around the school like that?

"Emily! Aren't you trying out for cheer?" Madison asks, looking at me like I'm insane. Or just really stupid.

"I don't know if that's really my thing and-" I start, but once again Madison cuts me off.

"Ok Emily we need someone tall for the squad. You said you would do it at lunch today. I already told Coach Mason and she'll be pissed at me if I go back on my word. Come on," she says, gripping my hand. For some reason this cracks me up. This tiny girl is literally dragging me through the halls on a cheerleading mission.

I send a quick text to Christian.

_I got talked into doing cheerleading try-outs…don't laugh! Tell Reynolds to pick me up at 4._

I can already see him rolling his eyes while reading my message.

Surprisingly, cheerleading is almost fun. I mean, if I was the type of person that had fun I'd probably be enjoying myself. Coach Mason is blonde and bubbly and she actually seems to enjoy her job. What is with every girl here being a blonde?

I walk out of the locker room and notice that the hallways are basically empty. I guess everyone else has gone home. Things like this make me extremely uneasy. I can almost feel his eyes on the back of my neck before he says my name.

"Emily," Jamie says behind me, yet again causing me to jump. Why is he always following me? Why doesn't he go bother his girlfriend?

"Hi," I say awkwardly, not slowing my pace.

"You're doing cheerleading?" he asks, while looking me up and down. Something about this feels very wrong. I've seen that look before. I try to swallow the lump in my throat before I get sick.

"Yeah, I'm actually in a rush now though," I say, turning the corner quickly. I collide with someone and fall back to the ground.

"Watch it," he snaps, but reached out his hand.

I take it before I look up and I'm paralyzed by his blue eyes. Matt Benson, the boy from my class. I get up and shake him off of me before scowling.

"You're the one that knocked me over," I snap. How dare this random boy speak to me this way.

"She's a little bit out of your league, Benson," Jamie says, draping his arm around my shoulder. I freeze instantly and then step away. I can't be touched there. Matt looks at me for a second and I see a look of sympathy cross his eyes. I despise that look.

"Leave her alone Canters, you've creeped enough girls out at this school," Matt says. He nods at me once before he turns and continues down the hall.

"Don't touch me," I mutter, before I stomp down the hall too.

There's definitely something wrong with the people at this school. It's going to be a long school year.


	7. Chapter 7

Christian

"My sister's a slut," I sigh, sitting down at the breakfast bar as Ana hands me a glass of wine. I can't remember the last time I've needed a drink this badly.

"Christian!" she scolds, shooting me a look. I feel like I'm talking to my mother.

"What? What do you call a half dressed high school girl who dances around and screams for boys?" I ask. I know I'm being ridiculous. But still. Something about Emily doing this is really bothering me. I've barely known her for two weeks and yet I can't help the protective feelings I have towards her.

"A cheerleader, Christian. You should be happy she's getting involved and making friends," Ana sighs, shaking her head at me. Yeah, making friends with a bunch of rich jocks that want to fuck her.

Emily has just finished her second week of school and is supposed to be "performing" in a pep rally tonight. The whole thing is stupid to me. Who has a pep rally for soccer? I didn't go when I went to Carlyle, so why would I go now. Ana is forcing me to go to offer support, but I'm pretty sure my sister doesn't want me there. I don't even really know if she wants to be there.

Over the past two weeks we've actually been civil. We haven't exactly spent much time together, but we haven't tried to kill each other either. Ana seems to think that's progress. I've noticed we have things in common and it's starting to scare me. Our mannerisms are so alike that it makes me uncomfortable. The way she blinks for a few seconds before she speaks, even her crooked smile. It's all too familiar.

"You guys really don't need to come tonight," Emily says as she comes down the stairs into the kitchen. I don't know whether to laugh or be horrified at her attire.

She's wearing this short navy and white top that exposes her stomach and a skirt that's so short it might as well be a thong. But her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail with a giant white ribbon on top, and she's holding both pom poms in her left hand. She has a paw print painted on her cheek and she looks like the most miserable cheerleader I have ever seen. It reminds me of the time Mia was some sort of dead cheerleader for Halloween when she was eight. Elliot and I still tease her about that horrible costume.

Before I can help myself I'm hysterical. She has to be the least cheery and spirited person I've ever met. Why would she ever do this?

"Christian," Ana growls through her teeth, but I can't stop. For some reason this really makes me laugh. I know I'm being a dick, but I can't help it.

"What?" Emily asks horrified, looking down at her uniform. "Does it fit right?" She starts tugging on the skirt and she looks at me like I've grown three heads.

I feel bad for making her self-conscious _again _and I try to keep a straight face. She definitely doesn't look bad…she just looks ridiculous. I can never have a daughter.

"No," I say and before I can help it I'm laughing again. I know I should be happy that she's "making friends" but this is almost too far.

She smiles but I can tell she's frustrated that I won't tell her why I'm laughing.

"It's just…you have to be the…most miserable looking cheerleader I have EVER seen," I laugh. She smiles too. Maybe we inherited the perpetual attitude from the "sperm donor" we share.

"Shut up, Christian. This wasn't my idea. Madison is forcing me to do it," she says, rolling her eyes at me. She swings her pony tail around as she talks.

"Christian leave her alone," Ana snaps. "Emily I think you look great and I'm sure it's a lot of fun. That uniform actually looks incredible on you. That Madison girl you've been hanging out with, is she nice?"

"No," Emily answers, "she's probably the biggest bitch I've ever met. I actually don't know if we're even actual friends. She's funny though." Emily smiles to herself. Yeah, we definitely have the same attitude.

Emily grabs a water bottle from the fridge and looks at the clock on the microwave.

"Are we going?" she asks with a hint of irritation in her voice. I start laughing all over again. It seems our cheerleader can't wait to show her Cougar Pride.

Sitting in the bleachers of my old high school is an odd experience. Not that I ever spent much time here. I usually got kicked off teams for fighting and I didn't have much school spirit in my teenage years.

"Does this bring back memories?" Ana asks, shivering a little. The fall air is cool tonight. I put my arm around her and pull her into my side.

"Some. Most of them aren't pleasant. I wasn't a happy child in high school," I murmur. She knows not to push it any further. I wish I could say the same for my thoughts.

I recognize some alumni and teachers, but not enough to say hi. I didn't exactly have any friends when I was a student here.

"Emily must be freezing," Ana observes, gesturing towards the cheerleading squad.

"Those outfits are completely impractical for Seattle," I agree. It's also impractical to have underage girls prancing around in their underwear. I'm finding a way to fix that.

I notice Emily talking to a girl and she actually looks happy. I see her laugh and smile and it does something to me. I want her to be happy. I want her to not look back on her teenage years the same way I look back on mine.

I see Gregory Colfer approach me from the other side of the bleachers. We've done business together in the past, but I've never really trusted him. He's the type of person that's always looking for information.

"Mr. Grey," he greets me with a smile. His eyes linger to Ana for a second to long and I'm immediately pissed off. Don't look at my wife, fucker.

"Colfer," I snap.

"My Madison tells me how fond she is of your younger sister. I wasn't aware that you had another sibling this young," he says, watching my reaction carefully.

_Neither was I, Dickhead._

I keep my face composed.

"Well she just recently began here," I say simply. I'm not giving him any information on mine or Emily's past.

"So I've heard. Well I'm sure she's a doll. Enjoy the pep rally," he basically sneers at me.

"Who was that?" Ana asks, watching him as he walks away. I feel her shiver again, although I'm pretty sure it's not from the temperature.

**Emily Freedman POV **

Would I be completely judged if I said that cheerleading was kind of fun? I mean, maybe the activity itself is stupid. But I've never really been a part of something. The girls aren't exactly friendly, but they're welcoming enough to me. Most people seem to fear Madison, and I find it amusing.

Madison Colfer is probably the bitchiest girl I've ever met. Her smile is almost always sarcastic, and I've noticed that she has no problem telling it like it is. But for some reason, I like her. I mean I don't feel the sense of ease around her that my friendship with Diego always brought, but it's nice to have someone to sit with at lunch.

If I didn't know better, I would think that she probably hates me. But she texts me an awful lot and seems to trust me with her relationship problems, so I think we're friends.

Jamie is another story. I watch him laugh with his team and I'm completely baffled. This charming, attractive boy is a complete and total creep. How can Madison not see that?

Christa, another girl on the team, says that he cheats on her all the time and that she just hasn't figured it out. But I don't think that's the case.

I watch Madison stare at Jamie from across the field and she looks absolutely miserable. She says that she loves him, but I think she just wishes that she did. I follow her gaze across the field and my stomach drops.

I see a dark figure watching me from the parking lot. No. He can't be here. There is no possible way. I blink and he's gone.

A thousand memories come flooding back to me. _My screams. His big hands. My little dog barking at the foot of my bed. Help. Get off of me. Stop it, you stupid little slut. _

I can't let my thoughts go on any further.

"Hello? Did you hear anything I just said? You look like you actually just shit yourself," Madison says, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Sorry, I thought I saw something," I say, trying to fake a smile. Madison rolls her eyes at me.

"Ok well before you start speaking to dead people, do you want to go to Trent's party after this? His parents are like at the beach house," she says, as if having a beach house is the most casual thing in the world.

"Sure, sounds fun," I say, although that sounds anything but. The soccer team boys don't really seem to be my type. I've never gone for the preppy guys in polo shirts.

The pep rally begins and I'm lost in a sea of cheers and excitement. If only I could feel the same way.

"Madison, you were so good!" Ana cheers, almost throwing her arms around me. I take a step back reflexively, and I can see her face fall. I'm such a bitch.

"Thank you! I was really nervous," I reply, trying to soften the blow. I actually like Ana and I don't like many people. She doesn't feel the need to question me.

"You actually looked cheery," Christian laughs. I punch him in the arm and then I freeze. Fuck. Was that too far?

But he just laughs and lightly shoves me back. Wow, it's like we're actually siblings.

"My friend Madison wants me to sleep over tonight, if that's ok?" I tell them, pleading a little bit with my voice. Part of me wants them to say no. I don't know if I'm ready to be with these kids outside of school.

"Oh that's great! Of course it's fine!" Ana says excitedly, all smiles.

Christian looks like he's swallowed something awful. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Christian," Ana snaps. "Emily is making friends with that girl. The one we saw her talking to. Let her have fun."

I look at Christian and sigh. Ana's right, I do desperately need to learn how to have fun.

"Fine, I'll send Reynolds for you in the morning. Is your phone charged?" he asks, his eyes all dark.

I wave my fully charged iPhone in front of his face.

"Thank you," I say, before I run off to find Madison. Things could actually be different for me here.

I feel completely out of my element as we pull up in front of Trent's house. I've never been to a party at a house this nice. What was it with these rich kids? There are people everywhere. I didn't even know this many people went to Carlyle.

Madison insisted that I borrow her clothes. So now I'm walking into a party where I barely know anyone wearing Madison's super short and tight black dress. I look like a hooker.

"Stop walking so fast. You look eager," Madison hisses at me. I tried to call her Maddie in the car and she nearly bit my head off. She doesn't really seem like a Maddie anyway.

"Yo Mads!" I see Trent yell from the front porch. He's already wasted even though pep rally only ended like an hour ago.

"You brought the new girl," he says, smiling down at me. He's all sloppy and a bit too animated for my liking.

"It's Emily," I say, sticking my hand out. His eyes fall immediately to my visible cleavage. Perv.

"I know exactly who you are babe," he says, winking at me.

"Trent, does she look like she'd be interested in you. Emily is hot. And you look like the guy from Johnny Bravo. That's not a compliment," Madison says, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

I immediately make eye contact with the piercing blue eyes of Matthew Benson from across the room. I don't think I've ever seen eyes that blue. He rolls his eyes at me yet again before he looks away.

I'm determined to figure that out tonight.

"What is his issue?" I ask Madison, gesturing towards Matt.

She rolls her eyes. "I don't know. He has like Mommy issues or something like that. He's poor Emily, I don't know why you're so interested. Yes he's hot, but he's not the boy you bring for dinner at the country club," she snaps at me.

Seriously Madison? The country club?

Forty five minutes later I'm slightly tipsy and alone. Madison and Jamie went upstairs, not before he winked at me. He really needs to stop doing that.

I decide that I'm going to call Diego. I miss him. Just his name makes my eyes tear. I open the sliding glass doors and step out onto Trent's beautiful porch overlooking the sound.

I'm looking down at my phone when a voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Jamie's not out here if this is where he told you to meet him," a voice says and immediately panic. What is this person implying?

I turn my head to the right to see Matt sitting on a dark chair while holding a beer bottle.

"Excuse me?" I ask him. What is he trying to say?

"I mean don't get me wrong, Madison Colfer is a first class bitch. But you actually seemed to like her. I'm just letting you know that if this is where Jamie told you to meet him so you can hook up in private, he's not here. He's probably a little bit busy cheating on his girlfriend with someone else," he says, staring out the sound.

I am livid. How dare this stranger say something like that about me. I don't know if it's the alcohol or my anger, but I suddenly explode.

"What the actual fuck is your problem? I've never even met you and you seem to have some serious issue with me! I would _never_ hook up with Jamie or anyone here for that matter, not that that's any of your business. I was just trying to make a phone call in peace before I was interrupted by an arrogant little prick," I snap at him, my hands in fists at my sides.

He looks impressed for a second before he takes another sip of his beer.

"I just don't like rich brats that think they're entitled to everything before their parents have money," he finally says, raising his eye brow at me.

"My parents are dead, so," I say bluntly, watching his reaction. I realize that this is the first time I've actually said this out loud.

"Oh…I'm sorry," he says eventually, although he sounds anything but.

"I'll get over it," I snap, still angry from his earlier accusation.

"My mom's dead too," he says, and then his farhead crinkles. "I don't know why I just said that."

"It must be because you're so welcoming and inclusive," I say sarcastically, smiling a little. "But I'm sorry for your loss as well."

He's silent for a minute, so I decide to speak again.

"I'm not rich either," I start. "I mean, I know my brother Christian is, but I had never even met him until two weeks ago when my dad died. I grew up in the projects of Detroit. I went to a ghetto public school with gang fights and drugs and had a deadbeat dad. I'm not a rich kid," I say, starring out at the water.

I realize that he's the first person I've said this to also. Something about him makes me feel okay, and I decide to sit down in the seat next to him.

**Sorry it's been so long, I've been crazy busy!**


	8. Chapter 8

Emily Freedman P.O.V.

Is it wrong to say that I've never been so mesmerized by another person as I am by Matthew Benson? His eyes certainly don't hurt, but it's more just the way he is.

"So what you made you decide to become a cheerleader? Was it my winning good looks?" Matt smirks at me, taking another sip of his beer. I giggle and take another sip as well. I know I'm actually getting pretty drunk and for the first time in my entire life, I'm not sad about it.

"Or the fact that Madison Colfer would have me skinned alive if I refused," I smile, rolling my eyes.

He frowns for a second. "You know I want to believe that you're a normal person, but the fact that your friends with her isn't very convincing."

"You're quick to judge," I observe, staring him down. He doesn't seem flinch. Instead he raises his eyebrow at me.

"I've actually been observing her for the past three years of my life," he says.

"That's actually kind of creepy," I say, smiling a little. He rolls his eyes at me.

"Not how I meant it. It's just, these kids are the most self-entitled people I have ever met. Maybe you don't see it yet, but you can't let your guard down around them. I've seen what they've done to people," he says, staring into the distance for a second. I have a feeling he's remembering something unpleasant.

"What do you mean?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

He shakes his head and takes out his cell phone. "Oh fuck, it's after 1 A.M.. I need to go. Do you need a ride home?"

"You're driving?" I ask him, nervously. I don't want to freak him out, but I will never be okay with drunk driving.

"No, Bobby is. He's the goalie. He doesn't drink," he says, standing up. He offers me his hand. As I take it, I feel all the blood rush to my face. My heartbeat picks up and I have a strange feeling in my stomach. Is this what having a crush feels like?

"I'm sleeping at Madison's house, thanks though. My brother would probably freak out if he knew I was drinking anyway. I didn't even tell him I was going to a party," I tell him as I get to my feet. I awkwardly release his hand after holding it for a second too long.

"Well…I'll see you on Monday," he nods to me, before going back into the party.

I can hardly keep the grin off my face as I turn out to face the sound. I let out a little scream and I could roll my eyes at myself. I'm acting ridiculous, and for the first time since I can remember, I don't care. I don't know the last time I felt this comfortable around another person besides Diego, and that took years.

I look down at my phone to see a text from Madison.

**Madison: **WHERE ARE YOU? JAMIE IS MAD AT ME, PLZ HELP

Normally I would roll my eyes at the dramatics of a high school relationship, but tonight is different. It's Funny how much a simple conversation can mean. Even if we didn't talk about anything of importance.

The party has mostly emptied out since I went outside two hours ago. I notice a few couples making out on couches, and my nose wrinkles in disgust. Seriously? I guess these parties aren't that different than the ones from home.

I see Jamie in the corner with Trent and a couple of other soccer guys. I walk over to them, noticing that my walk is a little crooked in Madison's heels. Yeah, I'm definitely drunk.

"Jamie," I say behind him, suddenly a little nervous.

He gives me his award-winning smile as he turns around. "Emily, what can I do for you?"

His eyes stay on my cleavage for a bit too long, but I decide to ignore him.

"I'm actually trying to find Madison," I say to him. I'm trying to get this conversation over with. "She said she was upset."

He looks at me for a second and doesn't say anything. What the fuck? Did he not hear me?

As I'm about to repeat myself he interrupts me.

"Oh yeah…she's upstairs. Here, I'll show you," he says, placing his hand on the small of my back. I shrug out of his touch and start to head up the stairs with him close behind me.

"What room is she in?" I ask him, and he stares at me again. If I'm drunk, he must be wasted.

"Jamie," I snap. This is just getting annoying.

He finally motions to a bedroom door. Something about his smirk is making me ridiculously uncomfortable. I ignore the pit on my stomach and knock on the door.

"Madison?" I call out. I don't hear anything and decide to open the door.

I take a step into the large room and feel around for the light switch. But before I can find it I hear the door close behind me. I turn around and I'm suddenly face to face with Jamie.

"What are you doing?" I ask, aware of the hesitation in my voice. My legs are shaking with fear.

He reaches out and grabs a piece of my hair, twirling it around in his fingers. _Too familiar. _I close my eyes for a second to fight back at the nausea.

"Jamie," I snap, hitting his hand away. This can't be happening. Not again. "Where is Madison? Where is your girlfriend?"

He smirks at me again. "Baby, do I look like I give a fuck? I know you wanted me that day at the coffee shop."

His words actually sting, because he's right. I did want him that day I first met him. But that was before I knew him.

"Jamie, you're drunk. Madison loves you. She is my friend," I say, trying to walk around him. He grabs both of my arms and slams me into the wall behind me. He slams me so hard that my head hits against the wall.

The pain vibrates through my entire body.

He looks down at me again before he starts kissing my neck. My knees start to buckle out from under me. _No. Do not black out. Do not let this happen._

I shove against his chest. "Get off of me!" But he's strong. My shoving only seems to irritate him, because he grabs my arms and pins them against the wall.

This cannot be happening. The tears start flowing from my eyes as he starts trying to kiss my mouth. Suddenly I'm hysterical.

"LET GO OF ME," I shout, my legs flailing out. I suddenly sink to the ground and begin screaming. This isn't happening again.

Jamie looks at me with a look of utter disgust.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he asks. MY problem?

But I can't even think of that.

"If you ever touch me again, I will kill you," I say, before I push myself off the ground.

I barely make it out of Trent's front door before I throw up everything in my stomach. I'm almost positive that this has nothing to do with the alcohol in my body.

I pull out my phone and wait for him to answer.

Christian Grey P.O.V.

A knock on my door pulls me out of my sleep. What the fuck does Taylor want at 2:04 in the morning?

"Christian," Ana groans, looking towards the door.

"Shh, baby, it's fine," I say, kissing her forehead and grabbing a pair of sweats from my drawer.

I open the door to see Taylor holding his cell phone.

"Ms. Freedman says she tried to ring your phone multiple times, but that you must not have heard it so she found my name in her contact list. She seems upset, sir," Taylor says, handing me the phone.

I nearly rip it out of his hand.

"Christ, Emily it's after two in the morning. Is everything alright?" I ask, although I'm pretty sure that's a stupid question. I doubt she's calling to say hello.

"Christian," she sobs into the phone, and I immediately panic. "Can you please come get me? I can't stay here." She's hysterical.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? I'll come get you from the Colfer's house right now," I say, looking at Taylor. He nods to me, silently agreeing to join me.

"No," she sniffles. "Please don't be mad, but we went to a party. That's where I am right now."

I run my hands through my hair before I speak. "Where the fuck are you Emily?" I snap.

I hear her cry harder and I realize that I probably shouldn't be so harsh. Something serious is going on.

"I'm sorry, where are you?" I try again, this time my voice much softer.

"Trent Zailor's house. I don't know the address, he's one of the boys on the soccer team. Please just come get me," she sobs again.

"Taylor, get me the address of Trent Zailor. Emily, we're coming now, okay?"

"Mhm," she cries again. "I'll be outside." She says, as the line cuts off.

"Christian, what's wrong? Is Emily alright?" Ana asks, tying her robe.

I run my hands through my hair again. "I don't know. She's at a party and I'm pretty sure she's drunk. I'm going to kill her."

Ana looks at me for a second and then runs her hand down my face. "Christian, please just remember that she called you for a reason. Be easy on her tonight."

"I will, baby. Just stay here, okay?" I say, pulling her to my chest. I never knew another person would be able to bring me this much comfort.

"I've located the address," Taylor says, and I reluctantly pull away from Ana.

"Good. I'll drive," I say, grabbing the keys off the coffee table in the foyer.

On the ride over neither Taylor or I speak. Despite the time of the night I am surprisingly alert. I want to believe that Emily has just had too much to drink and that she needs to sleep in her own bed. But something inside me knows that isn't the case. I know she wouldn't just call me for that. Something has to be wrong.

We pull into a nice neighborhood on the sound, not far from the house Ana and I bought. The streets are winding and it takes us about five minutes to approach the street. As we pull up, I can immediately spot Trent Zailor's house.

The driveway is filled with expensive cars all parked haphazardly. It's literally the poster of reckless teenagers and their expensive vehicles. The large front lawn is littered with cans of beer and solo cups, and I finally spot my sister sitting on a large rock.

Her outfit is enough to make my blood boil. She's all legs in a tight black dress and heels, with her make-up running down her face. I'm reminded of my college years and watching girls take "walks of shame."

I get out of the car and slam the door with Taylor following closely behind me.

"Emily?" I call out as patiently as I can, stopping a few feet in front of her.

She looks up at me hesitantly and I can tell that she's been really crying. Fuck. I have no idea what to do in this situation.

Before I can even react she launches herself at me, stumbling slightly in her heels. She throws her arms around me and buries her face in my chest. I immediately freeze, but if she notices than she doesn't seem to care. I rub her back and instinctively kiss the top of her head.

"Hey, Emily, what happened? You're okay now," I say, trying to soothe her. She just shakes her head and tightens her hold on me. This is the first time we've ever embraced, and it's almost comforting.

After two minutes she looks up at me and wipes her tears.

"I'm sorry," she sniffles, "I just didn't know who else to call."

"Hey," I say, taking her face in my hands. I gently tilt her head up so she has to meet my gaze. "I'm always going to be here for you sweetheart. When you need me, I'm there."

For some reason my words make her cry harder and for a moment I fear that I've said the wrong thing. But then she looks up at me.

"There's something I need to tell you but I'm afraid that you're going to make me leave after I say it," she whispers, rubbing her eyes again. She starts to sob again

"Shh, Emily, you can tell me anything, okay? But let's get you home first," I say, and bend down to grab her. I lift her easily into my arms and toss the keys to Taylor. I sit in the back seat with her and she lays her head on my chest. I rub her back while she continues to cry.

By the time we pull back up at Escala she has finally stopped crying.

"Do you need me to carry you or can you walk?" I ask her, not trying to insult her.

"I can walk," she says quietly, climbing out of the car.

When we enter the foyer she looks at me for a second.

"Can I talk to Ana too? If she's gonna know what happened then I at least want her to hear it from me," Emily whispers, refusing to make my eye contact.

"Yeah, I'll go get her. Why don't you go get changed and meet us back down here," I offer, and she nods and heads up the stairs.

Ten minutes later the three of us are sitting in the kitchen sipping on tea.

Emily looks down at her cup as she speaks.

"My dad…my dad wasn't a bad person. I know that somewhere deep down he loved me," she begins, and I'm already annoyed. If that fucker abused her I will seriously lose it.

"But drugs made him do a lot of bad things. He would steal and spend all our money and never pay the pills. But he always tried to get clean for me. He just wasn't strong enough. Um my dad, a lot of his friends were bad though. They weren't like my dad. They were bad without the drugs too," she says, wiping at the tears from her eyes.

Ana drapes her arm around Emily's shoulders and I notice that this time she doesn't flinch.

"It's okay," Ana whispers and Emily nods.

"I'm fine, sorry. Um, don't think I'm a slut, but I was nine the time I had my first kiss. And it was with my dad's friend Steven. He was thirty eight," as she says this, all the color drains from her face. The tears flow freely from her eyes. I feel my stomach drop. No. I know where this is going.

"He um, made me have sex with him," she sobs, as her body shakes. "He would wait until my dad was too fucked up to notice or care and then he would sneak into my bedroom and…when I was twelve I bought a lock. But that made him angry. I used to have this little dog named Jingles. He was a mutt but he was one of the only things my dad ever gave me. Anyway, after I put the lock on my door…" she trails off and catches another sob in her throat. "After I put the lock on my door he strangled Jingles and left his body on my bed. And he told me that if I ever tried to stop him again that he would do something even worse to me."

"When I was younger I would try and fight him. I would scream and he would hit me and tie me up. But as I got older I just stopped fighting. When I was thirteen he got evicted from our building. Luckily he came around less and I only saw him about once or twice a month," she trails off, her eyes lost in thought.

I feel sick. I was worried about a high school boy wanting to fuck my sister and yet an adult had raped her through out her childhood.

Ana's face is completely drained. She grabs my hand and squeezes, pleading at me with her eyes.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," I finally say, grabbing her hand across the table.

"Wha—wait, you're not mad?" she asks, stunned.

"I'm furious, but not with you. What that man did to you was despicable and out of your control. But you're safe now," I tell her. And I will make sure of that, sweetheart. I will have that fucker killed.

"You know, I want things to be different here. But they never will be. He told me that he would find me. He told me that I could never be with anybody else. It doesn't matter if I'm halfway across the country because he always finds a way," she says, suddenly panicked.

"Emily, look at me," Ana says, grabbing her face. I try to fight the bile rising in my throat, as well as my desire to murder someone. "We will never let him touch you again. Things are different now. We'll help you."

Emily nods and then looks at me, and I try to give her the best smile I can manage. Because on the inside, the only thing I can feel is the anger to fucking kill the pervert that raped my little sister.


	9. Chapter 9

**Emily Freedman P.O.V.**

I feel the sun shining through my window on the late September morning. I open my eyes and try to make sense of my surroundings. Oh. I'm in my room. Well, Christian's guest room. The clock reads 7:13.

My head is pounding from my hangover and mouth is extremely dry. I'm thankful to the kind person that left a glass of water and two Advil on my nightstand. My eyes are also swollen, which means that I've been crying.

Fuck. I told Christian and Ana about what happened with Steven. I have never told anyone about that. Not even The Asshole really knew what happened, and he lived with me. What was I thinking? They're going to send me away. They're going to think I'm damaged and that I'm a slut and that I'll create all sorts of problems. No one wants some kid with PTSD and an emotional disorder living under their roof.

A knock on the door interrupts my brief panic attack.

"Emily?" I hear Christian say on the other side.

I pull myself into a sitting position against my pillows and take a sip of my water.

"Um, come in," I call out, my voice hoarse from my crying.

He opens the door and stares at me for a second. He looks hesitant and I know what he must be thinking. _Slut_. Finally he comes in the room and sits at the edge of my bed. He looks shy and uncomfortable, something I've never seen before.

"Em, we need to talk about what happened last night. Or I guess I should say what you told me," he says, staring at me. I look into his eyes, identical to my own, and I feel warmth. He actually looks empathetic. Could he possibly understand what this feels like?

"I told you everything that happened," I say, looking down at my hands. I never talk about this. I have never told anyone what happened with Steven. I'm humiliated.

"Sweetheart, I know it's hard to talk about. But I can't help you if you won't talk to me," he says, and suddenly grabs my hand. The sudden movement both startles me and calms me at the same time.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Christian asks, and I feel the tears starting to roll down my face. I shake my head slowly.

"No, I knew he would hurt the person if I did. I tried to tell my dad once but he was too fucked up to really listen," I say, wiping away another tear. "I think my best friend Diego knew something was going on, because I would always get really upset whenever anyone mentioned Steven. But whenever he asked me I would tell him to mind his own business. I love him and I trust him with my life, but it was too dangerous for him to know. I just couldn't talk about it."

I'll never forget the one time Diego asked me about the bruise on my neck.

"Jesus Em, what is that?" he asked, moving my hair out of the way.

I slapped his hand away. "Diego, don't touch me." I know I must have looked murderous, but I really couldn't handle being touched. Even if it was by my best friend.

"It looks like someone choked you," he murmured, taken a back by my harsh tone.

"No one choked me, Diego. I woke up with it. Just drop it," I hissed. And that's always how our conversations went when he asked me about something I couldn't handle. I think he knew deep down, but he knew better than to really ask me about it.

Christian nods like he understands what I'm saying.

"So why now?" Christian asks after a long pause. I snap out of my memory. I stare at him, clearly confused by the question.

"Why what now?" I ask.

"What made you tell me about it now? Did something happen?" Christian asks. I really hadn't thought about how I'd answer this question. While Jamie was an asshole, I didn't really feel like having Christian or one of his men in black go after him. It would be embarrassing and this wasn't a stigma I wanted to carry around my new school.

"I just thought I saw someone that looked like him at the game and it threw me off, but it wasn't him," I say. Which isn't technically a lie. I did see someone at the game. The man did look like Steven. But there was no chance that Steven would have any idea where I was. He would never be able to touch me again. At least I hoped.

Christian stares at me for a second and I think he doesn't believe me. But he suddenly pulls me in for a hug.

"Listen, I know I haven't been easy on you. And I'm sorry. I truly had no idea what you were going through. But you're safe now, and I promise I will never let anything happen to you again," he says, while rubbing my back. This soothes me, yet for some reason I can't stop crying.

I cry into his chest again for what seems like hours, although it probably wasn't more than ten minutes. When I pull away he smiles down at me.

"It's still early. You look exhausted. Why don't you lay back down and I'll wake you in a couple of hours," he says, already pushing me back against the pillows. He takes the comforter and tucks it in around me.

"I'm not a baby, Christian," I say sarcastically, although I smile at him. I can't remember the last time someone actually took care of me.

He smiles back down at me before pulling the final blanket up around me.

"To me you are, kiddo," he says, walking out of the room.

He pauses in the doorway and stares at me for a second before he finally speaks.

"Oh and Emily? If you ever come home drunk again not only will you be grounded…but I'll probably spank you," he says smirking at me, before closing the door.

I gape at him. He has to be kidding right?

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. I actually had real homework to do, and figuring out how to do a research paper took up most of my time.

Reynolds pulls up in front of Carlyle and I can feel the nervous pit in my stomach all over again. I haven't seen anyone since the incident.

I see Madison at her locker and take a deep breath as I approach her.

"Hey Madison," I say, smiling at her hesitantly.

She doesn't even bother to look up at me as she unloads her books into her locker.

"Hi," she says after a few seconds, seeming distracted.

"I got sick, so my brother came and got me at the party. I hope you were okay. I saw your text and I tried to find you but I couldn't," I say, lying about the first part. Truth be told, I had been nervous about Madison. I had just completely forgotten about it.

Madison freezes for a second and finally turns to look up at me. I can't tell if she's going to vomit or cry.

"Are you seriously not going to tell me what happened?" she asks, and I can hear her voice crack. She closes her eyes for a second, and when she opens them again she looks different. She looks angry.

Did Jamie seriously tell her what happened?

"Madison, I was going to but I didn't want to hurt you or upset you-" I start, but she interrupts me.

"Why would I be hurt? Because the girl that I have tried to befriend tried to sleep with my boyfriend?" She asks as she starts to yell. People are staring at us.

I'm actually in shock. Does she really think I would do that?

"Madison you know I wouldn't do that! Jamie is the one that came onto me! I literally pushed him off and ran outside! He's lying to you and I know you know that!" I yell back. How can she seriously believe him?

A crowd of people have formed around us and it feels like they are expecting a fight.

"Why would he do that, Emily? He doesn't fucking like you. None of us do. I have tried to be your friend, but I'm done now. Oh and by the way, I had daddy look into you. You're just a poor little girl from Detroit with a druggy father that didn't love her," she says, her voice dripping venom.

It feels as if she slapped me. My heart plunges into my stomach and I think I'm going to be sick on the spot. People are laughing at me.

I thought this girl was my friend. Matt was right. You can't trust any of them.

"You know what? I feel sorry for you Madison. Because you're desperately defending a guy that's fucked every single one of your friends," I say as if I couldn't give less of a fuck.

Her mouth drops and people around us are suddenly silent and staring at me in awe. This isn't what I wanted.

I shake my head and storm into the bathroom where I breakdown all over again.

**Sorry it's been so long! It's been crazy hectic with school starting back up and I've been busy with classes. I promises more updates regularly! **


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